


Summertime Shenanigans

by Ghostie_Wyatt



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen, Help, How Do I Tag, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:39:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25521484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostie_Wyatt/pseuds/Ghostie_Wyatt
Summary: "I'm bored," He says, for maybe the fourth time in the last minute. "Why does it take so long to start?"In which he's bored, as per usual.(It isn't specified exactly who it is you're with so have fun with that!)
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Aka I have no idea what I'm doing this is my first fic in here and I am. Confused

"I'm bored," He says, for maybe the fourth time in the last minute. "Why does it take so long to start?"

It's night time, and the date is the fourth of July, and you're sat on a rooftop waiting for the fireworks to start. You know where to look, everyone does. People have bonfires going, ready to set the explosives off, and at this point you're practically vibrating with excitement. 

You know what's coming- you can smell the smoke, the distinct smell of gunpowder, and then one goes whistling upwards, leaving a faint trail of white behind that you'd have to squint to see, and then it goes off in a cloud of red, and you jump.

He laughs, then, eyes crinkling at the edges, and you glare playfully, because you know that he jumped just as much as you did. That fucker can't pretend he didn't. Well, he can try his damn best, but you saw in the corner of your eye.

At least he isn't whining about being bored, now. That's a plus. The downfall? He's edged closer, as if you weren't already nervous enough, tense enough, knowing that if he moved even the slightest bit closer your shoulders and arms would be touching and well, isn't that a thought? It isn't much, not really, but then...

You shake the thought off, because now isn't the time. Not when he's right there, face illuminated by the soft light of a fire below, shadows flickering across his face as if dancing in some ancient ritual. And, well, that only makes it harder.

Harder to ignore how beautiful he really is, harder to ignore the way his grins make you feel, harder to ignore the flips of your stomach whenever his hands brush against yours, harder to ignore everything. You're not really sure why you're still trying to ignore it, actually. It's painfully obvious, so much so that even the other lads had taken notice, and sometimes pitched ideas to try and help out. 

This was one of them, actually. Taking him out onto the roof of an old store, just too watch the fireworks explode. Maybe it was a replacement for the metaphorical fireworks people spoke of. And at least you could see these ones.

For a moment, you glance over last him, to see that he's grinning at you, and, yep, there it is, the familiar pain, that somehow felt oh so good. 

"You seem pretty deep in thought," He states, and you nod in reply, staying silent for fear that your voice would betray you. "Damn, did you lose your voice too? That's unfortunate, whatever will we do?" He begins to lament like some Shakespearean character, maybe Romeo, about how he'll miss your voice dearly. You scoff at his antics, and then he laughs, and suddenly you're both on your backs, howling at the sky. 

The sky. Once you quieten down, you stare at it. It's a gorgeous thing, really, the night sky. Dark blues speckled with the tiniest white lights, the occasional flash of a plane, the grey streak of a cloud, the reds and greens and yellows and blues and pinks and purples of fireworks lighting up the sky, giving it an ethereal beauty, as if it didn't have one anyway. It serves as a barrier, when you really think about it. A shield. You can't see all the way out into the bast expanse of space when the atmosphere fogs it up like a hazy window. It doesn't lock the moon out though. The moon always shines brightly, with stolen sunlight reflecting from it's surface, illuminating each crater, each sea, and though you can't ever see the other side of the moon, you know it looks the same. 

The touch of a hand startles you from your daze, and you whip your head to look at him, only to find that he's right *there* right in front of you and for a split second you wonder why you'd been staring at the stars in the sky when there were stars so much more beautiful in his eyes. And once again, you notice that he's gorgeous. And it's unfair. It actually kind of makes you angry, how pretty it is, and so you growl, and push him away, though gently. But he comes back, as usual, sprawling across your legs, though this time you just accept it.

He's affectionate, and you're not complaining one bit. 

The fireworks are getting bolder now, displays reaching their peak, but you're not looking at them. You're looking at him, with his eyes closed, hiding the stars you already miss dearly, lips softly curved upwards- and are they as soft as they look? How would he kiss? Gently, with feather light touches, the brush of his lips so subtle you'd be left wondering if you'd dreamt it? Or would it be everything at once, his hands on your body, somewhere, you don't care where, as long as he's on you, with lips pressed hard against yours, as if he's been starved of this for so long that he's forgotten you can't have it all at once- but then again, who are you to tell him to take his time? You've been waiting so damn long, you'd do the same if you had the chance.

Your mind moves from his kisses to his touches. He's always so gentle with you, you can't help but wonder if he'd stay that way, or if he'd clutch to you as if you were some kind of balloon and you'd float from his grasp the second he let go. Or maybe he'd hold in tightly for other reasons, fingertips leaving tiny prints from where they'd dig in- you cut that thought off there.

"I don't know why you're looking at me like that," He suddenly says, and you're suddenly aware that his eyes are open and glinting playfully and ohmygod he's leaning up and you've leant in slightly and you're so close it's suffocating you in the best way. "But I like it."

And you let out a choked noise, and yeah, you're definitely a fuckin tomato now. He smirks wickedly, knowing exactly what he's up to, and all you can do is growl again, but he leans forwards again, making your eyes cross in an attempt to follow him, and he hums gently. 

"Nobody just stares at people that long unless there's something on their mind, so come on, what were you thinking?" He asks, and you don't want to tell him but the you remember that you might not get another chance and so you blurt it out before you get too scared.

"I was thinking about what it would be like to kiss you- uh, and, what you'd be like...of you'd be gentle or not, and how you'd touch, I-" Your voice catches, and he takes the opportunity to hush you before you really start to ramble.

"What would you want me to be like?" He asks and then this time you know you're fucked because he knows now and there's no escaping. And so you shrug.

"You don't care?' A nod. "You'd want me to be how I normally am?" And another nod. 'Then why don't you come find out?"

Time seems to stop them, because he did not just say that. There's no way. There's no fucking chance- but he repeats it, softer this time, and shaky hands come to cup your cheek, and he leans in again, so you take the chance, all but diving forward. 

He gasps, the noise muffled by lips, but then he's smiling slightly and missing back, amsd then it really hits you a moment layer that ohmygodhe'skissingbackhelpme but in reality you don't want help at all. You revel for a moment in how you were right, he is gentle, as if scared you'll break, and so you press a little harder to tell him that 'no, I am not a glass vase' and he makes a noise low in the back of his throat. And it isn't anything like that but you still move away slightly, and he tries to follow your lips, actually whining, and you take a moment to wonder how in the flying fuck you ended up here. 

Oh, right. You'll have to thank the boys later. But first? There's other things to take care of.


	2. Nosebleeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're really fucking annoying, you know that?"
> 
> You say, and he only laughs. So you throw a punch, and suddenly he's bleeding.
> 
> ~
> 
> In which he's fucking infuriating.

You're both sat on a table. It's lunchtime at school, and you're both fuming. He's holding a bat too, and you know he won't use it against you, but... Well, he's mad. You're mad. People do stupid things when they're mad. 

He proves that when he growls, standing. You watch him pace, eyes following his movements, curious.

"What are you doing," you ask, and he turns to face you, eyebrows raising. You hold your hands up, huffing. "Alright."

He's not mad at you. You don't know why. That's why you're mad, really. You're mad at whatever made him so mad, but that's starting to bleed through. 

That doesn't last long, though, because he starts to ramble on and he's skirting around the subject- that doesn't help.

"Just cut to the chase," You eventually snap, and he turns to you, snapping.

"Maybe if you let me talk I'd get there," He says, and so you stand, staring him down. He's not bothered, though, and he stares back, unfazed. 

"Let you talk? I did! I waited until you were done having a hissy fit to talk, you dumbass! Do you even think before talking?" You hiss, and he snarls, making you grin wickedly. There we go. 

"I paused to breathe, you know, like a normal human- I wasn't done, idiot." He snaps back, and you take a step back, and then throw a punch. His hand comes up instantly to hold his nose, eyes wide, and you stumble back, shocked. Oh.

That was unexpected. He pulls his hand back, and spots the thin later of crimson now coating his fingers, feels the warmth on his nose, and lips, and his gaze fixes onto you. 

Well, fuck. He begins to move forwards toward you, and then suddenly you're against the wall, and he's close, too close, hands holding you against the wall and you don't struggle. You don't struggle because this is... Hm. He's leaning in too, eyes staring right into yours, glaring. 

"You punched me," he states, and you nod, as if it needed confirmation. "You actually-" He stops, looking toward the door, as if checking for something. He seems satisfied enough, and then turned back to you, and he grins, lips coated in blood, and his tounge darts out to lick his lips, and his teeth are stained slightly red, and for some reason, something stirs.

His lips are almost touching yours, all of a sudden, and you gulp. He was just taunting right? Right? Just...trying to get a reaction? But he proves that wrong when he presses his lips to yours. 

And damn. Now you know what he'd been looking at the door for, at least. Or maybe he is trying to get a reaction, and the thought makes you push him away, and he looks shocked for a moment. 

"What-" Maybe you should have waited to get your breath back. "What the fuck was that?" You snap, and he flinches back, which is weird, why'd he flinch away? Unless...

Oh.

Oh?

"Was that- did you..." You can't find the words but he seems to pick up on what you're trying to say, and he smiles guiltily, blood startling to dry now. It's formed a coating around his nose, and you imagine that the blood that stains his lips red is almost dry, it probably would be already dry if he didn't keep licking at it. 

You sigh, and push him down onto a table, sitting him down whilst you rummage in your bag to find something to clean him up with. And, ha, sure enough, there's a spare shirt. Brilliant! You use water from his bottle to dampen it, then begin to gently dab at his face, being careful with his nose. He winces a few times, but with a gentle 'shh' and a quick bit of reassurance, he's fine again, watching you as you work, which makes him go a little bit cross eyed, due to his close you both were.

When you're done, you throw the shirt into your bag, and then look at him, and he looks at you. It occurs to you then that you aren't actually angry anymore. 

"Sorry about your nose," You eventually say, and he only laughs, then takes your hands in his and pulls you closer, between his legs, though he's still on the table, and then he presses his forehead against yours, humming softly.

"It's alright. Let's face it, I needed that," He remarks, quiet and soft, and you both dissolve into a fit of giggles, and then his lips are on your cheek. "It was kinda hot too, not gonna lie," He adds, and you playfully slap his shoulder, grinning.

"Shut up," You mumble, before kissing him again, only to be disturbed by someone banging on the room's door. You both look to see one of the others frantically gesturing, and soon they all appear sat the window, before piling in.

Yeah, they're gonna be teasing you both about this for weeks.


End file.
